


One Night on the Job

by Jrade



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Death, F/F, Happy Ending, Killing, Kisses, Light Threatening, Major Character Injury, Movie Night, Sarcasm, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jrade/pseuds/Jrade
Summary: Sombra and Widowmaker are out on a mission. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing all that odd - some guards to kill, some things to steal. Everything's perfect: they each get to play to their strengths, and there's plenty of opportunity for some snarky banter back and forth. It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye, though....or until somebody gets a bullet buried in their back.





	One Night on the Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSoundOfThunderstorms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoundOfThunderstorms/gifts).



> This one goes out to Sounds of Thunderstorms! Who is great and fun, yes.
> 
> Warnings: blood, death, violence, but it's not super gory or anything like that. Uh, bit of an injury scare, too. Sad, scared Sombra (sorry).

Sombra’s grin pulled a little wider into her flushed cheeks as she sprinted away from the shouts behind. There was a lot of fun in staying hidden, staying behind the scenes, staying out of the line of fire.

Only thing was, she never got to _sprint_ when she was behind the scenes. It was just so much better! The wind through her hair, arms pumping at her sides, blood rushing hot through her veins.

She hopped up, planting her foot solidly on a railing and leaping skyward, catching the edge of a low rooftop with her fingertips and pulling herself up quickly with a little chuckle. The guys who were chasing her followed on down the alleyway as she sat with her knees crossed on the rooftop, happily invisible. She pulled a chocolate bar out of her pocket, but it was broken into pieces.

“ _Mierda_ ,” she grunted to herself, stuffing it angrily back into her pocket and snapping her fingers. She didn’t _need_ to snap her fingers, of course - she could turn her comm (or for that matter, _anybody’s_ comm) on and off with just a wave of her hands, or no gesture at all, but there was something to be said for theatrics. They just made life better.

“ _Pendejos_ broke my chocolate bar,” she grumbled over the radio.

 

\---

 

Widowmaker smirked, hanging upside-down from a crane that sprouted from the inside of a rising skyscraper like the stamen from a flower.

“Aww, poor thing,” she pouted in return over the radio link as she watched the men run off down the alleyway through her scope. “How ever will you survive this mission? Perhaps I’d best just put you out of your misery right now…” The scope zeroed in on the hacker’s grinning face.

She was mildly irritated about working with Sombra again. She usually was, but only mildly. The girl was an annoyance, but who wasn’t? She was actually fairly capable, when she decided to co-operate. Widowmaker _was_ mildly irritated… but mildly interested as well, and irritation was _something,_ at least. She would rather work with a mildly irritating cohort, than a _boring_ one.

Sombra’s snicker carried clearly over the radio. “Hey, you offering to buy me a replacement? That’s great, _amiga -_  thanks! I think I’ll let you do that for me, yeah.”

Widowmaker didn’t dignify that with a response, only shook her head as she focused down the scope again and scanned the ground. Her long ponytail swirled gently below her - any normal human would have been incapable of maintaining this position for long, before blood started to pool in their head and cause problems.

She,  though, was no normal human. No blood was any concern of hers - her own was thick and cold, and that of her enemies? It was only paint, waiting for her trigger-finger to turn it into a masterpiece.

 

\---

 

Sombra’s gaze flicked over toward the crane that was silhouetted in the moonlight. Her cybernetic eyes twitched and zoomed, easily picking out Widowmaker’s face dangling upside down beneath it - not to mention some other details, like the fact that her weapon was currently loaded and that her phone was only at twelve percent battery.

“Jesus, _amiga_ , charge your fuckin’ phone. You’re killing me down here.”

“I wish,” was the only response through the radio, and Sombra could see those dark lips shifting into a smirk.

She snickered, but didn’t let it get back to the hanging spider. It was best not to let her think things were going her way too much - Sombra knew she did the exact same thing right back. It was a fun little dance, each of them trying to pretend like they didn’t give a shit about each other.

It had been an unexpected benefit of getting involved with Talon, really. At first, she’d figured she’d just get some resources, get some info, get what she wanted and get out - but now, she had these two dorks keeping her around. Widowmaker and Reaper as well.

It kinda felt like she fit in, a little. It was kinda nice.

With a little laugh, Sombra pushed herself forward off of the edge of the rooftop and landed soundlessly in the alley below. “You got eyes on my floor?”

“ _Oui.”_

“All eight of them?”

Widowmaker’s sigh came clearly through the radio and Sombra grinned as she jogged over to a maintenance elevator. The top floors of the building were undergoing new construction, and the elevator had been hard-coded to simply shuttle back and forth from the ground to the roof.

Not that Sombra gave a shit about what it had been coded to do. She could make _anything_ dance to her tune. Her fingernails tapped excitedly at a panel and little purple sparkles flashed; _theatrics._ The elevator started to ascend, twice as fast as it normally would, and Sombra crouched like a sprinter at the blocks, ready to go.

The elevator stopped. She heard a gunshot, and grinned. “And, she’s off,” she muttered under her breath and shoved forward off of the elevator’s low wall, activating her camouflage. She bolted forward through the broken glass which Widowmaker had so helpfully shattered, and grinned wider as she heard more gunshots - from outside, at first, and then inside as well along with shouts.

 

\---

 

Widowmaker let out a slow, contented sigh as the wind swayed her off to one side. Her aim was still perfect, of course. She shot out the window as Sombra approached her floor, gentle smile splitting into a wide grin as the shards of glass reflected moonlight. There was something beautiful about _broken_ things.

Security guards began to react to the window shattering, of course, but they were of no consequence. Sombra’s position displayed on Widowmaker’s visor due to a segment of code the annoying latina had included herself, and the assassin ensured that she would have a clear path through the floor.

One through the head as she swayed to the East; gravity carried her back like a pendulum and she sent a round through a man’s chest, then two through the one standing next to him before the first had even hit the ground. Her heartrate increased and her grin widened, both slowly but inexorably, as she began to give herself over to the thrill of combat.

A guard took cover, as if it would help him - splinters of wood from the wall joined his blood and shards of bone in flying across the room, and Widowmaker looked away immediately, not out of any aversion but because she was scanning for the next shot, and the next, and the next…

 

\---

 

Sombra dodged reflexively as a wall just in front of her exploded into splinters, the bullet zipping effortlessly along and punching through another wall as well, drawing a strained shout from the other side and a thump.

“Getting a little close with the shots there, _amiga,”_ Sombra muttered over the radio.

A bright and melodic laugh filled her ear, bringing an extra little bit to the grin on her lips. “Ah, if only there were to be an _apple_ on your head, we would see how close I can get.”

“Hey, you name the time and place, I’m down,” Sombra snickered.

“Truly?” She sounded legitimately excited. Sombra could just picture the wide-eyed look on her face - and the way it would snap back to a narrow glaring scowl as soon as Widowmaker realized she had given so much away.

Maybe, on some other night, she would’ve taken advantage of that little opening. Maybe on some other night, she would have gone for a little dig to the ribs. Tonight, though, something struck her - the moonlight glinted just right or she’d heard the right song on the radio - and she decided to give that a pass. Or maybe it was just that she wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing Widowmaker’s sour pout, herself.

“Ehh, sure,” Sombra shrugged as she slid, knocking a guard’s feet out from underneath him. She swung her machine pistol around, but before she could fire, Widowmaker took the shot, and Sombra chuckled as she leapt to her feet again and continued to run. “I mean, what are friends for, right?”

“I think _target practice_ is not the standard answer,” Widowmaker purred over the radio, voice light with amusement, “but it is good to know that ours is not such a paltry and _limited_ relationship.”

As she made it to the elevator, Sombra quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s a _relationship_ now, is it? My my, _cariña_ , you do know how to get a girl’s hopes up…”

 

\---

 

Widowmaker scoffed lightly, dangling from her wire as her slow-running blood practically sang with the thrill of death. She watched the elevator doors close through the scope - Sombra momentarily deactivating her camouflage in order to flash a wink for the assassin to see.

“Ah yes, you are so _hopeful,_ tell me,” she giggled softly as she took out the ankle of a guard running down the stairwell, sending him crashing down atop of two others. “Does it hurt to be _disappointed_ so often? Please say yes. I would love to know that I am hurting you.”

“Aww, how could you ever disappoint me, huh?” Sombra’s voice brought her grin immediately to Widowmaker’s mind. Her annoying, cheesy, infectious grin.

“I shall simply need to try harder,” Widowmaker purred before chuckling as she took out a pair of guards who thought themselves safe behind the blackout safety glass that surrounded one floor in particular. “I trust you can deal with the electronic defences?”

 

\---

 

Sombra’s chuckle echoed as she crouched on top of the elevator. _“Amiga,_ you can trust me with _anything_ you want…”

The elevator came to a stop, and Sombra’s grin reflected the dancing purple lights that flew from her hand. “Nighty night, boys and girls,,” she murmured as she cut off the floor’s power. The noises of confusion only increased as she swung down through the elevator’s maintenance hatch and out into the office building.

Her machine pistol flashed in the darkness, brief bursts - her eyes compensated automatically for the low light, glowing slightly. The emergency lights tried to come on but Sombra’s hand streaked bright purple trails along a wall as she ran along, and she stopped them.

Yes, they were an analog system - but she could hack _anything._ There was still a little transistor in there, to detect whether the main power was on, and Sombra could overload that just as easily as anything else.

The guards reeled blindly in the darkness, pulling out flashlights as one or two shouted angrily about emergency lights, and bullets continued to fly. Widowmaker’s were precise and devastating; Sombra’s were scattered but no less effective. More than once, they teamed up without words - Sombra filling a guard’s calf with lead and Widowmaker finishing him off as he crumpled to the ground.

At first, things had been a little awkward. Not for Sombra, of course - no, nothing was ever awkward for her, but Widowmaker had been all _kinds_ of awkward. With all of her pretending not to find Sombra hot, pretending not to look - pretending not to _like_ her or laugh at her jokes.

Sombra had seen through all that real fast, it was obvious. Every dismissive scoff, every veiled threat, every time Widowmaker looked away in total disinterest or wandered past her in the hallways without even noticing Sombra - she was _obviously_ interested, and Sombra knew it.

Now, though, they were starting to work alongside each other even better. At first, there had been a lot of shouting and accusing - Widowmaker thought Sombra was too noisy and jumped into things too fast, and Sombra thought that Widowmaker had a stick up her butt (because she obviously did). Gabe had just groaned and sighed and told them to sort their differences out, in the sparring ring if necessary.

That didn’t happen, of course. Sombra’d seen Widowmaker snap Talon troopers’ arms like twigs for looking at her wrong, and _besides_ , there wasn’t any real enmity anyway. Sombra knew Widow secretly thought she was cute, and she couldn’t blame her.

She even returned the feelings - secretly, of course. It was impossible _not_ to think Widowmaker was cute, with her golden eyes and her dark pouty lips, cute little blue cheeks and the way she turned her nose up at just about everything. Usually literally.

“Hey, _amiga,”_ Sombra wondered as she leapt off of a wall and grabbed a guard’s hair, slamming his head down to the ground. “You wear lipstick or is that shit natural?”

 

\---

 

Widowmaker scoffed lightly as she dangled, neatly putting a bullet through the man’s head the moment Sombra stood from him. The empty clip ejected and fell a magnificently long distance before it struck the ground and flattened itself. She’d taken four more shots before it hit.

“On my lips? No, of course not. I smear it over all of my skin. You did not think this blue was natural, did you?” Widowmaker laughed derisively, shaking her head before lining up another shot. Sombra was paused in front of a door, opening the lock, and Widowmaker could easily see the thermal signature of a guard on the far side waiting.

The bullet passed within three inches of the annoying hacker’s head before taking the guard’s life, and Widowmaker grinned at the way Sombra flinched back.

“Gah! _Chica,_ little warning first?”

 _“Chu desolée,”_ Widowmaker shrugged with a smirk, firing off another round and taking another life.

It was fun, to toy with the girl. She thought herself so cool and beyond reach, but _nothing_ was beyond Widowmaker’s reach, and it was important for Sombra to know that.

At first, she had been a mild annoyance, but there had been some anticipation as well. New people presented new possibilities, and particularly Widowmaker had been looking forward to the possibility of _failure_. Talon was unforgiving with failures, and she delightedly offered her own services up as a punitive measure whenever she heard of such an occurrence.

Sombra had actually proved to be quite useful, however. When she remained focused. Too often, she would become distracted - by a goal of her own, or by a shiny rock. Or a scrap of candy. Widowmaker didn’t mind if she had her own desires, and even would have been willing to aid her in attaining them - but the mission was of a higher importance.

Eventually, perhaps, Sombra could learn that one could achieve _both._

Lately things had settled into a better circumstance. After Sombra had managed to stop grinning every time she looked at Widowmaker, and managed to swallow down her blush every time the assassin returned the gesture. Widowmaker was no fool, she knew what the sideways glances meant - every time she faked a look away, every time she seemed to dedicate her eyes elsewhere, Sombra’s gaze was on her and she saw it. Nobody avoided the Widowmaker’s sight.

She couldn’t blame the girl. Widowmaker knew just how much people looked at her, just how much they wondered and how much they _wanted._ She liked it. Liked denying them. It was always a joy to see the hope in their eyes die.

Somehow though, Sombra’s managed to keep glowing. It had been quite intensely irritating at first, but that could never last long, and Widowmaker had largely resigned herself to it. At least Sombra didn’t follow her around like a puppy, the way she did with Reaper - the assassin chuckled to herself as she thought about it and took out another guard as Sombra slipped through one more door.

She really had turned out to be unobjectionable as a teammate, and even positive. The _repartée_ was quite enjoyable, chattering as they carried out an operation was a nice contrast to Reaper’s sometimes seething silence, although Widowmaker tended to prefer his combat style - and he was not without his quips, certainly. They all bantered as they fought: Sombra threw wisecracks everywhere, but many did strike true to her credit; Reaper bided his time and then unloaded with waves of sarcasm, and Widowmaker let off decisive remarks and retorts, in constant control of the conversation.

It was quite fun, actually, batting away Sombra’s sad attempts at flirtation or jokes. She’d begun to suspect, in fact - somewhere between the purple smirks and the laughter - that Sombra actually _intended_ it that way. That she _knew_ what was going on, and chose to feed into it.

It was an intriguing thought, certainly. At the end of the day, Widowmaker didn’t really care - she felt like a cat with a toy, and it hardly mattered whether the toy wanted to be played with.

Although, it _was_ an intriguing thought…

“Are you nearly there?” Another gunshot split the still night air. “A woman could get tired of all of this _hanging around…_ ”

 

\---

 

Deep inside the building - but safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t beyond the reach of Widowmaker’s rifle or thermal cameras - Sombra snickered. “Damn, _amiga_ , that sounded like an actual joke!”

Her fingers tapped at a small holographic screen as she worked her way through shells of security. “I’m working on it, nearly there. You’re covering the guard room, right?”

_“Oui.”_

Sombra grinned as she continued to work, but the gesture faltered as another word came across the radio link.

_“Merde.”_

“Uh… what’s up, _amiga?”_ Sombra didn’t stop or slow in her hack - the system was fighting back almost impressively. Almost. It wouldn’t be any issue for her to get through, of course, but if she let up she’d have to work back through everything she’d already done and that was just going to be twelve seconds of _boring._

“There are two guard rooms. It would seem our information was out of date.”

Sombra shrugged. “Meh, it happens. If only we had some kinda hacker who could’ve double-checked the info first, y’know? Man,” she chuckled, shaking her head, “that’d be _useful!”_

“Hardly,” Widowmaker scoffed through a smirk. “I have met those types before. They are all… inflated egos and pointless theatrics.”

“Sure, sure, little miss ponytail - _I’m_ the one who’s into pointless aesthetic,” Sombra grinned as the door popped open and alarms began to blare. The vault had its own generator, internally - shielded and separated from the other systems so she couldn’t get at it from the outside, but it hardly mattered. She’d be gone in less than a minute anyway.

The dull and distant sound of Widowmaker’s rifle sounded again as she started to cut down the guards who were surely spilling out of their two rooms, but Sombra didn’t pay any attention to that. She sprinted forward into the vault and ran through the shelves, eyes searching frantically for their target. On the way, she snatched up a couple of memcards and a little golden statuette, because it was pretty.

Her grin widened when she found the target, one hand held up above her head and wreathed in a purple glow which kept the vault’s internal security at bay. No turrets, no doors locking behind her, nothing like that - she grabbed up the small metal case and clipped it to her belt, then spun on heel, letting out a brief laugh over the comm.

“Alright, _chica!_ I got it - coming out. Make sure the window out front’s taken out, eh? I got a good egress idea.”

 

\---

 

Widowmaker gritted her teeth as she let off another shot and reloaded. Not only were there twice as many guard rooms dedicated to this vault as they’d been led to expect, each one held at least fifty percent more guards - and the rooms were armoured, so she’d been unable to make any progress at thinning their ranks until the doors opened.

“A good idea? _You?_ I doubt this, _amie.”_ She reloaded, empty cylinder ejecting from the top of the Kiss directly toward the ground. There were enough guards that she was forced to sacrifice fatality in some cases - better to incapacitate three than to kill one, from a mission standpoint. She did hate being made to choose between mission success and personal desire, of course, but there was only ever one way that choice could go.

“That window is quite weakened.” She took another two shots as Sombra’s icon made its way back toward the outer section of the building. “There are many guards. Be wary.”

“Yeah yeah, I got this. They can’t shoot what they can’t see, right?” A laugh came over the radio.

Widowmaker only raised her eyebrows and continued to fire, decreasing the guards’ numbers as much as possible. They began to return fire now that they’d placed her, surprisingly accurately, and she hissed angrily as a bullet streaked across the skin of her calf. It didn’t hurt, but she was offended at the man’s gall for daring to shoot her - it didn’t require four bullets to kill him, but she gave them anyway. She was generous that way.

“They have made my position,” Widowmaker muttered as she released her hook and began to fall, soaring through the night air and spinning to redeploy her grapple - but not before she scoped in and took another shot that buried itself in a guard’s gut. “I am repositioning.”

 

\---

 

“Hardly matters, _amiga,”_ Sombra shrugged as she ran through the last door before she’d be out. Guard’s corpses were scattered everywhere, and moaning ones who were injured as well - she didn’t shoot for fear of giving her position away, just ran as carefully and silently as she could, cloaked and invisible.

_Huh. She was right. There really are a lot of them. Shit._

Guards were just about everywhere, not tending to the wounded right now but looking outward to the windows. Assault rifles flared in the darkness and flashlights glared around the halls, trying to track down the intruder and returning fire to the sniper outside at the same time.

Sombra’s eye implants easily picked out Widowmaker as she swung in a low arc, letting off two more shots. The guards focused on the muzzle flashes and returned fire, and Sombra took advantage of the opportunity.

She reached down and tugged a Translocator beacon free, sprinting forward and flinging herself shoulder-first into the shattered and weakened window. The last of it gave way and fell outward - this security glass was laminated to layers of plastics and semi-composites, it didn’t shatter into shards, but the whole broken sheet detached from the building’s face and flew out as Sombra leapt through it.

They couldn’t shoot what they couldn’t see - or at least, not _intentionally_ , but sometimes a stray bullet gets lucky.

Sombra cried out at the intense, searing pain in her back as a lucky bullet buried itself. Her muscles spasmed reflexively, her vision flashing bright; the Translocator beacon slipped from her fingers before she could throw it to a rooftop.

“Ah!” She gritted her teeth against the pain. “Fuck, shit - _chica!_ I’m hit, I-”

Sombra grunted as something solid hit her, knocking the wind out of her entirely, and she struggled to pull her machine pistol around. The agony was intense enough that her body didn’t want to cooperate, her muscles didn’t want to move correctly, but she managed it anyway. She swung her pistol around, only to realize that it was Widowmaker’s temple she was pressing it against.

“I told you it was not a good idea,” the assassin murmured, smirking as she swung along on her grapple line, one strong arm wrapped around Sombra’s back - it made the pain so much worse, so so much worse, and Sombra’s eyes ran freely with tears.

When there was no retort, Widowmaker glanced over briefly, her lips shifting into a slight frown at the agony etched clearly across Sombra’s face. A few seconds later they made it to a rooftop and Widowmaker set her teammate down.

Sombra crumpled to the ground with a weak cry, her weapon clattering to the ground as her hands spasmed. “Sh-shit, fuck, I’m- damnit, _chica_ , this really hurts, I- damn I never felt bad for the guys I shot before this! Ha!”

It was a strained and lame attempt at a joke, but it was something at least, and Widowmaker rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Were _I_ to be the one shooting, you would have felt no pain.”

“Th-that’s not exactly,” Sombra swallowed, hands flashing over screens as her vision blurred a little. “Not exactly encouraging, _amiga._ I’m- fuck, I-” she laughed, pressing her head back against the roof with a terrified groan. “I think I’m gonna die. I really do, fuck, shit, no I can’t-”

“Nonsense,” Widowmaker sighed and rolled her eyes again, dropping swiftly to kneel beside the hacker who laid down on the roof and tugging at the straps which held her jacket closed. “I know wounds, I know fatality. You are only being dramatic - more of your _theatrics,_ you will not die.” She tugged Sombra’ jacket open and slid her shirt up, exposing her belly. “Trust me, I know gunshot wounds, and that-”

Golden eyes flicked down in the moonlight and widened slightly, a thoughtful frown overtaking dark lips. The damage was great - entry in the back, and the exit wound out of her stomach was quite gory. Blood seeped out freely, but not swiftly enough for the artery to have been hit, luckily - still, it was a very serious wound.

“Hmm. That is actually quite bad.” Widowmaker’s gaze flicked up to meet Sombra’s, and she shrugged a shoulder. “You _might_ die.”

 _“Amiga!”_ Sombra whined, practically begging as she tried not to writhe too much, and forced herself to _not_ look down at the gunshot which was leaking blood all over her. She just clamped a hand over it tightly and hoped that would be enough. “Th- shut up, don’t say that shit. Just-”

Widowmaker’s frown intensified. It had been the perfect response that she’d given: a true assessment of the situation, but presented with that teasing that Sombra was so fond of. Yet, she was upset. “What, do you want me to be truthful or do you want-”

“I _want_ to not be _shot!”_ Sombra screeched before biting her lips together. “Ju-just,” she swallowed, her face draining of blood and her voice dropping to a soft whisper. Yelling wouldn’t help. Maybe nothing would help. Maybe she was just straight-up going to die.

She didn’t think this was how she was going to go out. She was supposed to either have blazing eyes and blazing guns as people closed in on all sides, or be cackling weakly in a hospital bed at a hundred and fifty years old as she taunted the cops with where all her loot was buried. Not cold and alone on some damn rooftop.

Not quite alone, though. At least she was here.

Widowmaker’s eyebrows drew in tightly as Sombra’s hand grabbed at hers and squeezed. Maybe. It was difficult to tell whether she was meaning to squeeze, with how weak the gesture was. Purple eyes sought hers out, streaming tears.

“I-” Sombra squeaked. “I- I can’t feel my fucking toes, _chica,_ I can’t move ‘em, I- fuck, I’m-”

Widowmaker moved with a frown to inspect her legs but Sombra cried out. “No! No please- fuck, don’t touch them, I just- I can’t deal with that shit, I- I got a dropship coming in, I snatched it off the city grid, okay? It- we can-”

“We cannot return you to base, you will not make it that long.” Widowmaker wanted to cross her arms, but one hand was occupied holding Sombra’s, so she clearly couldn’t.

“I fucking _know,_ alright? Don’t- don’t fucking remind me of that shit, I just-” Sombra sobbed, groaning at the pain of holding pressure on the wound. The pain wasn’t nearly as worrying as everything being numb below that, though. She tried not to think about it. It didn’t work.

“Look, there’s- there’s a medical convention near here. I tracked down _La_ _Ángel Rubio_ to the room she’s staying at, alright? It- we can get there in time, we can-” her lips trembled as her head fell back against the roof. “Fuck, I hope we can get there in time.”

Sombra’s eyes slid closed, squeezing out tears as she shook with sobs and pain. _Madre de dios, Maria, llena eres de gracia…_

She knew shit was bad when she started to pray.

This was definitely _not_ how a super-cool international hacker was supposed to die. This shit wasn’t supposed to happen to her. A cold thought tried to worm its way in through the back of her mind - what if she _didn’t_ die? What if she survived?

Paralyzed?

A desperate whimper peeled out of her mouth as she was thrown under a fresh wave of fear, dark and rolling and powerful as the tides. She’d been caught in the waves as a little girl, once, to her _papa’s_ horror. Right now, she felt like she was back there again - helplessly at the whim of deep waters that tossed her to and fro without a care, and she couldn’t even manage a breath.

She didn’t expect a hand behind her head, lifting her from the rooftop. She _definitely_ didn’t expect a pair of lips to press against her own, firm and a little bit chilly.

Sombra slowly opened her eyes in confusion, meeting Widowmaker’s gaze from a few inches away as the assassin raised her head a bit. “Wh- what the fuck was that, _amiga?”_

“I thought it would distract you.” Widowmaker’s gaze flicked from her eyes, to her lips, and back again. “You were getting dangerously distraught.”

“I-” Sombra cut off in a laugh. _“Dios m-_ you fucking kidding me, _chica?_ That’s all it takes?” She laughed weakly, eyebrows wavering as more tears sprung forth. “It’s- you know I’m still pretty distraught, I’m just saying-”

Widowmaker sighed and tugged Sombra more upright, pulling the hacker halfway into her lap and bringing her head up for a kiss. This one, Sombra was evidently not content to leave at simply lips - the tip of her tongue pressed out in an expectedly brazen fashion, and Widowmaker rolled her eyes softly as she relented and tipped her head to the side, letting the kiss deepen. There was just a hint of a smirk on her dark lips.

“Now,” she murmured when they parted again, “you are certainly abusing your privileges.”

“Hey, you know me, _amiga,”_ Sombra coughed weakly, but her shit-eating grin was quite full. “I’ll milk any situation for everything it’s worth.”

“You would have more luck squeezing blood from a stone,” Widowmaker scoffed, fingers buried in Sombra’s hair, absorbing the warmth from her scalp.

“Ah, shut up and gimme more of those kisses, _amiga -_ and just be lucky I’m not down with pain like that or I’d be making you do more, too.”

“Hah, as if you could ever _make_ me do _anything,_ ” Widowmaker muttered derisively as she lifted Sombra’s head lightly for more distraction.

At odds with the catty banter were their hands, clasped tightly together. Sombra squeezed as desperately as she was able, holding onto that one thing, that chilled hand, pulling it close to her chest. Widowmaker pressed it against her sternum there, but neither of them mentioned it, neither of them looked at it.

The dropship that Sombra had “requisitioned” came in close, engines whirring, and Widowmaker lifted the hacker easily in her arms and stepped toward it as the doors opened up. “Now, are you sufficiently calm?”

“No, I need more distractions,” Sombra grinned shamelessly and giggled a little. “But hey, at least I’m _used_ to not feeling my toes after that kinda shit.” Her grin wavered a little and she sighed, tapping at a screen. “Ah, fuck,” she muttered, “that was a fucking mistake to mention…”

Widowmaker sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Do not worry. As usual, I am here to fix your messes and cover your mistakes.”

Sombra snickered as the doors closed up and the ship whirred off into the night. “Aww, that’s sweet of you, _amiga._ I knew you really cared, secretly deep down!” She grinned up to Widowmaker, one arm wrapped around her neck. “Plus, you still owe me a chocolate bar.”

“You wish,” Widowmaker murmured with a smirk, one arm behind Sombra’s shoulders and the other wrapped under her knees, curled around so she could hold the hacker’s hand tightly against her gunshot wound. She didn’t mind the blood in the slightest, it was hot and vivid.

“Man,” Sombra groaned as they took a seat. “Talon should really get a fucking field medic. Those other pricks have like eight of ‘em!”

Widowmaker snorted. “Please, can you imagine Akande’s response?” She frowned caricaturistically, putting on an exaggerated mask of disapproval and speaking with an artificially dark and almost growly voice. “No. No healers. The strong will survive and the weak will perish.”

Sombra cackled, wrapping her arm a little tighter around Widowmaker. “Ah, that’s funny, _chica,_ but it hurts to laugh, so…”

“You are just trying to get me to kiss you again.”

“Aww, but I was being so subtle!” Sombra grinned, eyes dancing. “How’d you ever guess?”

“Infuriating girl,” Widowmaker sighed through a grin as she leaned her head down again for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few minutes. She actually found herself quite liking it - warmth was always pleasant for her cold blood, and… it felt nice to be wanted. Or _needed_ , perhaps.

“That’s me,” Sombra murmured against her lips, eyes closed and smiling. “Just here to piss you off.”

“Well, it is working…”

 

\---

 

Doctor Angela “Mercy” Zeigler sighed heavily as the elevator doors slid shut and she was finally able to drop the stupid smile she’d forced herself to maintain all night. She pulled her phone out of her purse as she trudged down the hallway back to her room.

“Hi, Fareeha, sweetheart,” she sighed, leaning one shoulder against the wall and dragging herself along. She’d been insane to wear these heels - but, she had to look good for the donors and the cameras.

“No, it was awful. Yes, I _know_ I was getting an award, but I- I hate these functions. They’re all pomp and circumstance and handshaking; none of those donors actually _cared_ about any of my work, I tried to talk to them about it and they just-”

She cut off with a sigh as her girlfriend’s reassuring voice came through the phone and she pressed her thumb against the lock of her room. It popped open and she twisted the knob, falling heavily forward through it.

“I know - you’re right, I know, I’m just… it was just frustrating and tiring. I didn’t get to eat all night, and it was stupid that you had an assignment so you couldn’t be here, and-” she grinned as Fareeha protested. “Hmm? Yes, yes I am calling your assignment _stupid_ , because it kept us apart tonight and kept you from seeing me in that new gold dress I bought.”

She grinned wickedly as Fareeha stuttered. “Why _yes_ , dear, the one that your mother joked would be the sort of thing the patron saint of strippers would wear. Now… is there something you wish to say on the matter?” She paused for a moment, giggling triumphantly at Fareeha’s admission. “Why yes, you are quite right _leibling_ \- you _are_ on a stupid assignment!”

Mercy dropped herself with a sigh onto the bed, not bothering with lights. “Anyway, I just- I know it’s three in the morning there, but I wanted to hear your lovely voice. Thank you, _leibling_ . I love you. Have a good night? _Ja,_ we’ll see each other soon.” She laughed briefly. “Yes, of course I’ll wear the dress for you. Goodnight now.”

She dropped the phone beside her on the bed and tried to sigh out all the stresses of the day.

“Well, this is kinda awkward. I mean, for _you_ , of course.”

Mercy stiffened up at the voice from beside her, a teasing but slightly strained voice. The room had a queen-sized bed - she reached out a hand hesitantly and it nudged up against a body. “Hello?”

“ _Hola._ Listen - my friend here? She really wants to just threaten you, but I figured it’d be polite to ask first, right?”

The doctor pushed herself up from the bed to stare over - in the dim light filtering through the curtains, she could just barely see a silhouette of a person on the bed, and another one standing next to it. “And you think that _doesn’t_ count as threatening?”

“By comparison?” The intruder snickered but didn’t explicitly respond. “But hey, look, I just- I know it’s kinda shitty to show up in your hotel room unannounced and all, but it was kinda shitty of that guy to shoot me in the spine and I thought you could help out, so-”

“You’ve been shot?” Mercy shoved herself up right off of the bed and whirled to the closet. “Hold on, I’ll fetch my staff - one moment, please, you will be alright, I promise you.”

 

\---

 

Sombra squeezed a little tighter at Widowmaker’s hand, gesturing over toward the doctor with a thumb. “Heh. See? Toldja she’d play right along.”

The assassin leaned back against the wall beside the bed, the perfect picture of disinterest save for the arm that dangled toward Sombra on the bed and held her hand. “Whatever. Hooray, you will make it through the night.” She _sounded_ entirely unimpressed.

Sombra snickered. “Ahhh, yup. Gonna have a lot more time with your old pal Sombra…”

Gold light splashed forth from the tip of Mercy’s staff, illuminating the dark room, and Sombra gasped at the sensation of it. Warm - almost hot, _almost_ even painfully so - but as the tingle spread down to her toes, she started to laugh.

“I hope you’re ready for a big donation, doc. And hey - I found a couple of details that might help iron out some of the issues you’ve been having with nanobot self-replication in systems under duress.”

Mercy’s face twisted into confused curiosity, lit by the glow of her staff, and Sombra waved her hand with a scoff. “Look, I don’t pretend to understand all that shit, but I know you wrote an article about nanobot injections causing problems in people over a certain critical threshold of injury, something about the ‘bots taking too much of the body’s resources as they replicated and proliferated - whatever, I dunno, but I’m pretty sure there’s a company in South Africa that’s figured out a good solution. It’s in your inbox.”

“Oh.” Mercy smiled at the first legitimate insight into her work that the whole night had provided. Admittedly, it came from a likely-armed intruder… but she didn’t much care about that. Most people in her life were armed. She nodded her head softly. “Thank you.”

 

\---

 

Widowmaker carried her back to the roof.

“Are you _certain_ this is strictly necessary?” The assassin shot Sombra a glare as she climbed the stairs to the roof entrance. “You should be able to walk by now.”

“Hey, what can I say, _amiga?”_ Sombra shrugged, leaning her head in against Widowmaker’s shoulder. “I tried! No luck. I can wiggle my toes though - I mean, I’m sure I’ll get back to it in a hurry, I just need a minute. System’s still in shock and stuff, you know?”

“I’m sure,” Widowmaker growled, smirking just slightly as her arms tightened up a little more around Sombra, protectively. “I suppose you will need more _distractions_ as the ship returns us to base, as well?”

“It was a frightening night!” Sombra protested. “I might develop serious mental side-effects if I’m not properly distracted from my fear!”

Widowmaker flashed a narrow glance down to the hacker’s grinning face. “Fine. You have enough issues already, we do not need you developing more.”

Sombra laughed, kicking her feet delightedly as Widowmaker carried her into a Talon Claw-model jumpship. She’d let the one she stole earlier get back to its assigned route. _“That’s_ what I like to hear, _amiga!”_

The ship sealed up and lifted off into the night, taking the pair swiftly away from their successful mission. Sirens blared and lights flashed in the city below them as it sought to cope with the attack that had taken place, but it was of no concern to either of the two of them.

Sombra just sighed as she sat up in Widowmaker’s lap, happy to finally be able to dedicate both of her hands to this - running through hair or up ribs rather than clutching at bleeding gunshot wounds.

“Yeah,” she grinned, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I think we’re gonna be working together a _lot_ more, _cariño.”_

Widowmaker rolled her eyes with a scoff and a smirk, slipping a hand firmly behind the small of Sombra’s back. “Oh, _lucky_ me,” she drawled sarcastically as Sombra started to nip at her neck a little. _“C’est la vie, cherie…”_

 

\---

 

A few days later, Widowmaker was wandering idly around her _Chateau._ It was a delightful place, at least to her - or as delightful as anything other than killing was. That was the _true_ delight in life; death.

Lately, though, there were more things on her list of slightly lesser (yet still valid) joys. None nearly holding a candle, of course, but… toying had always been fun. Sarcasm, banter, competition, they all held their attractions.

And now an annoying latina had managed to add herself to the list.

Widowmaker sighed as she heard the knock at the heavy front doors, but she grinned slightly, secretly, to herself. The gesture evaporated entirely when she swung the doors open and coolly regarded Sombra standing there on her front step.

“What?”

“Movie night, _amiga!”_ Sombra grinned and stepped in, ducking and twisting to get past a very-still Widowmaker who stood resolutely with crossed arms.

“Again? We watched one _yesterday.”_ Sombra was already inside, though. “Fine,” Widowmaker sighed, swinging the door shut and locking it. Nobody could be permitted to intrude into her abode. “If you _insist._ I don’t know why I let you talk me into these things.”

“Uh, because it’s _fun?”_ Sombra retorted with a snicker, grabbing Widowmaker’s hand and tugging her into the house, heading for any room with a couch. There didn’t need to be a TV. “You’ll like today’s offering. It’s an old one, but a good one!”

Widowmaker recoiled slightly as a screen sprung up in front of her face with information about the movie and a brief plot summary. She strode along confidently, easily, as her eyes scanned and her lips twisted into a frown.

“ _Leon,_ ‘The Professional’, by _Luc Besson_ . Are you suggesting this because I am French? Or because I am an assassin?” Her dark lips curled into a grin. “Or because there is an _annoying girl_ in it?”

“Pfft,” Sombra rolled her eyes, tugging Widowmaker back onto the couch and slipping an arm behind her back. “No - what kind of person do you think I am, anyway?” Her grin widened as she snickered. “It’s because the movie’s about a French assassin who _falls in love_ with an annoying girl, and if that isn’t our story, I don’t know what is.”

“Foolish,” Widowmaker scoffed, moving to pull Sombra back against her chest and soak in her body heat. “That is _not_ our story.”

“Yeah, I _know_ , _araña_ , ‘cause you’ve loved me the whole time!” Sombra announced with a roll of her eyes and a smirk. “Just trust me - you liked ‘Boondock Saints’, didn’t you?”

A slow grin found its way to Widowmaker’s lips as she thought back on it, a tale of vengeance and death; it really had been quite enjoyable. She’d found a copy and watched it again for herself after Sombra had left. “It… was not _entirely_ objectionable, perhaps.” Her grin shifted into a slight frown at a thought, and she poked Sombra in the ribs. “You must find a movie for us that is _not_ nearly a century old.”

“Hey, there’s no rush,” she snickered, flinching away from the jab but not by much. Sombra plucked a purple hexagon out of the air and tossed it forward. It unfolded into a wide, floating screen - and as she snapped her fingers, all of the lights dimmed. She did _love_ theatric touches.

The hacker relaxed back against Widowmaker, sighing a little as chilled fingers worked their way through her hair, scritching gently at her scalp. “Don’t worry, your favourite little hacker _extraordinaire_ is gonna be around for a nice, _long_ time so we can watch _plenty_ of movies!”

Widowmaker sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Oh, how _wonderful,”_ she muttered sarcastically, the hint of a smirk playing at her lips. It was a fun game to play, for each of them. She was quite glad that it hadn’t ended yet, and showed no signs of doing so any time soon...

**Author's Note:**

> So, that! Originally this was an idea that was going to be for one of my chaptered fics, but it worked better as a standalone and Thunderstorms mentioned wanting Spiderbyte so I went ahead and did it >.>  
> (and I'm sorry for threatening Mercy a little, please don't send Pharah after me to get revenge)
> 
> Anyway, I hope this was good! I hope you liked it! I like Spiderbyte, they're a cute pairing, and I do plan to do more with them as well!
> 
> ...also, I'm doing better at writing short things. Kinda.
> 
> If you liked this, please say something - if folks are interested, I'll do some follow-ups from this! Whatever you'd most like: fluff, more missions, more movie nights, action, angst, whatever; I'm pretty much happy to write what people want to read, so go ahead and let me know and I'll give it a shot! Or if there's another pairing you want, tell me that too!
> 
> EDIT: Hey! I wrote a thing that's a followup to this, kinda, based on a random prompt - [here it is!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146562). Feel free to give it a read, and I do plan on writing more for them and collecting it together in a series or something. (EDIT 29JUL2018, the Series is an active work in progress)
> 
> [ADDENDUM 29JUL2018] Wow! IceImagines (who did a wonderful [piece of art for one of my other fics, BSN](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077395/chapters/29858463)) came through again, and sent me this!
> 
>  
> 
> I think it's really awesome - the pose is great, the little tears at the corner of Sombra's eye, the expressions on face and the blood; it's a great microcosm of the story, I think, and does a great job of capturing the essence of a key scene! I could even go into metaphorical things about how the background suggests the light at the end of the tunnel, with focus and placement and pose leading the eye away and making it seem like Widowmaker's keeping Sombra from going _into_ that light, but I won't go on about stuff like that for _too_ long (but I had to at least mention it once, hahaha).
> 
> So, yeah, unexpected surprise but one that made me really happy! I hope you like it too - drop by their tumblr at [this link here](http://icewuerfelchen.tumblr.com/) or check out some of their fics at [their Ao3 link here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceImagines/pseuds/IceImagines), or just pop into the comments and say you liked the pic! Thanks :D  
> [/ADDENDUM]
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks, folks! Hope you had fun, and I hope you have a great day!


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